Riptide
by Crystal Meadow
Summary: Draco is starting his 5th year at Hogwarts, but he's been drowning behind his masks for years. No one can see through them to save him though. The only one who has a chance to save the snake prince, might just be the king of lions himself. Drarry.
1. Prelude

Author's Notes: It was an idea that came to me in the middle of the day. I like my characters to have depth to them, and I just can't believe that someone who had Lucius Malfoy as a father and is hailed as the prince of Slytherin has to be more than a spoiled brat. Also, since they are so rarely mentioned in the books, I'm also going to class up some other Slytherins. Other than the regular disclaimers that I don't own any of these characters the only other thing is that it starts during the 5th year. I haven't read the book in forever since it is one of the _worst_ (coughsiriusdiescough), so only the major things will be included. It is meant to be AU though, so without further adieu . . .

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_Riptide_

When I was nine, my family went to vacation in our beach house in Italy. When my father was busy with his affairs, my mother would take me to the ocean and teach me how to swim. Once I could swim, I felt like I could do anything. This giant, never ending expanse of water, could no longer harm me. I had thought that I had learned the secret to beat this great leviathan. I begged my mother every day to go out swimming. My father had even approved of my new found hobby. It was two weeks later that I learned the true secret of the ocean; that no one, can ever beat a leviathan.

I was swimming not very far from the shore, when all of a sudden, I was pulled out towards the ocean. All of the breath was knocked out of me, and I was pulled under the water. I was tossed and turned so much that I didn't know what was up and what was down. I can't remember what my father did, but he was eventually able to pull me from the water before I was dragged out to far. It was one of the few times that my father outwardly showed any emotion as he hugged me to his body and tried to calm his ragged breathing.

I was pulled into a riptide and nearly dumped into the ocean. The feeling of complete fear and helplessness is something that I will never forget for as long as live. It took me another week and a half before I could gather the courage to swim again. Every time I would go into the ocean after that, for that first moment that I would step in, a trill of fear would go down my spine. It is a feeling that persists to this day in any large body of water. It was something that I never wanted to feel again, and I never thought I would.

Then, at the beginning of my fifth year, without even entering the ocean, I had stumbled into another riptide. This time though, my father wasn't here to save me; he was only pulling me deeper. I'm drowning, and no one can save me. No one can even see that I'm going under, or perhaps the more truthful statement would be that no one cares.

When you're drowning, it usually takes four minutes before your brain becomes damaged from lack of oxygen, a few minutes more, and you're usually too far gone to save. I wonder sometimes, when the current isn't as strong, when my four minutes will be up.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. And everything else. Chapters are going to be slow, but they are going to come up. One of my friends, you know who you are, will harass me until I finish it, so don't worry.

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**_Riptide - Chapter 1_**

One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three. One. Tw-

"Draco, whatever are you doing to those quills?" I glanced at my mother and the quills fell to the ground. I considered levitating them again, but then I remembered my mother asked a question.

"I was making them waltz." An emotion flashed across her face, but she quickly buried it; an ability perfected by all Malfoys.

"Do make sure that your father doesn't see that type of behavior. I only came to tell you that we will be having company tonight, so I advise you to stay in your room." Ahh, that meant that it was another meeting tonight and she didn't want me to be around.

"Of course mother," I replied and turned back to the quills on the ground. She only paused for a minute before she silently closed the door. I could just faintly hear her heels down the hallway. I was considering levitating the quills again and continuing with their interrupted dance, but my mother's conversation had jump started my once quiet mind.

This was already the third meeting this month. Luckily _he_ didn't think to grace his followers with his presence yet, though my _lovely_ aunt might soon be a house guest if the snatches of conversation I heard were true. The fact that my mother came up here on her own and didn't just send a house elf, suggested that she was keeping this conversation from father and didn't want him to find out.

It's so odd to see mother rebelling against father in such a subtle way. Usually, if mother was displeased about something she would directly tell it to father and would almost always get a product that would satisfy her. Though, a lot of things have changed of late.

My father has been trying very hard to get back on his lord's good side. Apparently father bit someone without his master's permission and has been making up for it ever since. I wonder when mother's warnings for me to stay in my room won't be enough, when I'll be forced to become a death eater and join his horde. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't agree with his ideas, but I prefer my lords to be mentally stable and to not randomly torture their followers.

I left my chair and got a book from my wall, _Faedil's Guide to Dark Magic_, and opened to a random spell. I let my mind empty as I started learn the spell words for '_Disdendo'.  
_

It must have been hours since I started learning the spell, though it only seemed like minutes to me. My hand paused in its movements at the small _'pop'_ of a house elf. I finished the arm movement until my wand was leveled at the elf. For the elf's credit, it didn't even flinch. I sighed and found my mask.

"Well, what do you want?" I asked, making sure to put a sneer in my voice.

"Master's father wishes to see him in his study," the house elf said, well use to the Malfoy way. I wonder if the house elves gossiped between each other about the numerous problems of each household. I suppose they wouldn't though, they have to much honor. Dobby hated us and still gave up none of our secrets, even to Dumbledore.

"Very well. When I return, I want dinner inside of my room." The house bowed before it apparated away. I sighed and sat back in my seat. When was the last time that I didn't dread having to appear before my father? It must have been around my first year, perhaps before that. I sighed again before I found my reflection. I straightened out my clothes and ran a hand through my hair. I took one last glance, making sure that my mask was in place before I walked out the door and down the hall to father's study.

When I approached the door, I raised my hand, ready to knock before it caught my eye. It was slightly shaking, in what emotion I don't know. I frowned slightly as I focused my mind on my hand until it stopped shaking. Once I was sure that I was no longer shaking, I gave three quick knocks and waited.

"Come in." It was said in cold, clipped tones and I made sure that I took one last deep breath before I opened the door and walked in.

Father's study was classy and elegant, like the rest of the house. Despite the room having a no nonsense attitude, it also had a type of homeyness that was only amplified by the large fireplace. I would often spend many hours in here with my father. It would be silent as father was doing his work and I was always worried that he would tell me to leave. Despite that, he never said a word and made sure that one of our softest fur rugs was always laid out by the fire so I could read in comfort. Regardless of the constant silence, I enjoyed just being in the presence of my father. He would sometimes even come over and take a small break in one of the chairs and ask me quiet questions. Those were some of the happiest times of my life. My eyes quickly darted to the side, and I felt a slight pang in seeing that area in front of the fireplace was bare. I pushed it aside though and met my father's eyes.

"I missed you at dinner tonight. There were some people that I wanted you to meat." His voice was even and steady, though his eyes held a different emotion. He most likely wanted to circumvent mother's interventions, and hoped that I would help him.

"I'm sorry," I said with a slight bow of my head, "I was going through an old spell book and I lost track of time. It was only when the house elf came to summon me that I realized I had missed dinner." I made sure my voice stayed even and that my eyes didn't waiver. His eyes slightly narrowed at the new information, an obvious half-truth we both knew, before they went back to normal.

"Do make sure to keep a better track of time Draco, especially when we have company over."

"Of course father." I waited until his eyes turned back to his work before I finally turned and left. I shut the doors, walked all the way to my room, and firmly shut the doors to my room before I let my breath out. I walked to the table next to the window and whispered a small, 'thank you,' to the house elves. It was the entire four-course dinner from a few hours ago laid out on the small table in front of my window seat. I brought over a few trays and settled myself next to the window.

I lightly nibbled on the quail as I searched out the constellations in the sky. Unfortunately, the elm blocked my view of Draco, but I could still pick out a few of the major ones. My attention was quickly lost, and I ended up staring out into the garden while I tried to make my mind blank. It was working fairly well, for at least an hour, until my mother came out into the gardens. There was just enough light to glisten off the tear tracks of her face.

My appetite quickly left and my eyes tracked her until she turned the corner and out of sight. Her shoulders weren't shaking and she was silent, the only evidence that she was crying was the water on her face. A Malfoy never breaks down, alone or not. You must always wear your mask until you forget how to take it off, no matter the situation. That was the first rule of being a Malfoy, and none of our family disregarded it.

I moved off of my seat and placed the barely touched dishes back onto the table and quickly put on my pajamas. The house elves would get the plates eventually. I got between the covers and I stared at the canopy of my bed. It was hard to distinguish between my thoughts and dreams, but they were filled with cold eyes and tears that turned into an ocean. A boy with blond hair was drowning far from shore. No one came to save him.


	3. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2_**

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One two. One two. One two. I turned over and grabbed my wand, motioning towards the music box, almost before it started playing. I sighed and considered lying back down and continuing to count my heartbeats like I had been doing for the last three hours, but decided against it. Mother and father were expecting, and father was already angry with me for missing dinner last night.

I got out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. I fumbled for my toothbrush and started brushing, absently concentrating on the circles beneath my eyes. Unfortunately, my insomnia of the past few weeks was beginning to take its toll. The dark purple circles under my eyes stood out against my pale skin. I contemplated the pro's and cons of using a glamor to hide them, but decided against it. A glamor would leave a slight magic trace, and I didn't want mother asking about it. I settled with some simple concealer with a small glamor placed on top to even the tone.

I spit out the toothpaste and started about the task of getting rid of the circles. Once everything was said and done, I gave my reflection a nod of approval. I could barely feel the magic as it settled on my skin, so I doubt that either of my parents would be able to pick it out either.

I made sure my hands were clean before I left the bathroom and walked over to the wardrobe. I threw off the pajama pants as I started looking for something to wear. I eventually decided on a charcoal robe and black overcoat. I found a random pair of socks in the drawer and I slipped on the pair of black dragon scale shoes. I turned to the full length mirror that was by the door. I gave myself a final once over before I left.

I walked out the door and down the hallway, absently handling my wand in my pocket (1). Breakfasts in the Malfoy Manor were not the most pleasant way to start the day, and were often very trying, like walking through a room full of blast ended skrewts wearing only a smile and your good looks to protect you.

I quickly walked down the winding halls, each modeled by a Malfoy previous. Some halls were so gaudy that they deserved to be gutted and renovated. Others screamed 'evil dark wizard' so loud, it was cliché. Ironically, it was one of these dark hallways, complete with evil runes and gruesome pictures, which led to one of the most pleasant rooms in the manor.

A rather small, by comparison, sun room, designed with nearly white pastel colors and flowers. The occasional glimpse of gold and mother-of-pearl accented the light colors and made sure the eyes were never over, or under, whelmed. It was this room that served as the family breakfast room. It was a warm room, full of warmer memories, that didn't deserve the cold atmosphere that seemed to pervade all family gatherings as of late.

I gave a nod to my mother and father before I sat down. The table was laden with food, though I only chose some fruit and a pastry. We all made polite talk with each other until the house elves came with the mail.

Father quickly became absorbed in whatever he had received, so it was mother who found my Hogwart's letter. She quickly scanned it before she handed the parchment to me.

"Already that time of year again. I wonder who they got to fill the defense against the dark arts post this year?"

"Actually," a smooth voice spoke up from the head of the table. Mother and I quickly hid our surprise at hearing my father speak, "Fudge is so paranoid about Dumbledore plotting an uprising that he's sending in one of his own agents. A Wisingmont, Dalores Umbridge, I believe." A sneer of disgust appeared on my mother's face at mention of the name.

"Ugh, a stumpy little woman that believes herself a queen. She wants power, but has none of the discipline or class needed for it. She had tried to befriend me at one of the ministry functions a few years ago, but I found that despite her potential usefulness, she was entirely to unpleasant and untrustworthy to stand." I hid a smile behind my cup, imagining the encounter. Malfoy's mastered many things, one was a look of such utter disgust and disinterest that a mere glance would be enough to scare most of the worms away. Mother is even better at the look than father.

After that bit of information sharing, mother sent a house elf off with a list of my school supplies to order. The only thing that I now needed were new school robes, and all that required was a house elf taking my measurements and sending them to Madam Malkin's.

Soon, father excused himself from the table, and mother did as well a few moments later. I waited a few more minutes, making sure they were gone, before I bonelessly sagged in the chair and gave out a sigh. Despite this being one of the better breakfasts, it was still emotionally draining.

I took another breakfast claw as I studied the room, trying to think of something to do. Really, the most appealing thing I could come up with was moving to one of the window seats and basking in the sunlight streaming through the ceiling. I sighed again before I got up, finishing off my breakfast. It wouldn't do for mother, or, heavens forbid, father, to find me lazing about. The only other thing that seemed even minutely entertaining was practicing the spell I had started learning last night.

I stood up and wiped my fingers on a napkin before I left the room. I quickly started to pick my way through the house, down to the dungeon levels. I turned off right before the stairs, into a medium sized stone room. The only source of light came from two candelabras on the left and right sides of the room. The room was otherwise empty, except for an iron pedestal and a stack of old pillows.

I closed the door, a sign that the room was in use, and levitated a pillow onto the pedestal. I had to give a slight smile at the selection of pillows in the stack. They were all truly hideous things that deserved being destroyed. The one I chose was an ugly orange and green affair that had no place in any home.

Once it was on the pedestle, I steped a few paces back and readied my wand. I went through the arm motions once more. Dark magic spells were hard to practice since, unless done perfectly, they could come out with disastrous, and often random, effects. This fact is why every household that houses a dark wizard also had an unwarded stone room below ground level. Wild dark magic mixed with stringent ward magic had interesting effects; bad, but very interesting.

I steeled my mind, putting the arm motions and incantations together, focusing on the pillow.

"_Disdendo._" I saw a few flashes of light appear around the pillow, definetly not the 'whirlwind of blades' that the book promised. I waited a few more moments, making sure that the magic disappated, before I moved to inspect they pillow.

The pillow seemed unharmed, though there might have been a few runs in the fabric that weren't there before. I stepped back to my previous position and tried the spell again, to the same effect. I twirled my wand in thought.

Perhaps I didn't have the right emotional backing. It wasn't unheard of to have a spell's outcome porportioned to the caster's emotions at the time, the Unforgivables being a prime example.

I dug up a suitable memory and let it consume my mind. Ah, when the mud-blood Granger punched my face in third year. Behind the shock and pain, there was a deep pit of anger and hatred. Yes, plenty of negative emotions to feed the spell. I imagined Granger's head superimposed on the pillow for extra measure before I cast the spell again.

"_Disdendo!_" This time there was a noticiable difference in the spell. I could see long silver ribbons appear out of my wand and fly towards the pillow. It was probably only the room's dark lighting that allowed me to see the ribbions swirl around the pillow, as if caught in a tornado. The effect only lasted a few seconds, but it left its mark on the orange and green monstrosity this time.

While the pillow was still standing, there was very little fabric covering the stuffing. I felt my eyes widen slightly in surprise. I thought Faedil was mearly exagurationg in his spell descriptions, but apparently I was wrong. While it wasn't a spell for common occasions, it was a nice ace to keep tucked up one's sleeve.

I continued practicing until there were no more pillows left in the box. Just as I was about to summon a house elf to get more, there was a knock on the door. I waved it open and a house elf walked in, not taking the chance of apparating into the middle of a spell.

"The mistress has ordered me to take the young master's measurments," it spoke in a squeaky voice, eyes keeping level at my knees.

"Very well. Wait for me in my room. Also, send an elf down to replenish the target stock."

It bowed and apparated away. I burned the reminents of my spell practice before I walked out of the room. It had been at least five hours since breakfast, and I knew I should probably have a house elf send me up a lunch, but I truly wasn't hungry. I instead decided to spend the rest of the day in the gardens.

There wasn't much time left before I would be shipped off to Hogwart's again, and while it did have a distinct lack of Death Eaters, it was still very hard to find a truly secluded moment to one's self. At least in the manor, I didn't have to worry about any troublesome masks, though it was getting harder to dodge the Death Eaters. And I suppose, that no matter what happens, here or there, this place is still home, and I always hate leaving it.

I shook off my strangely frivolous thoughts and hurried to my room. The elf was there, and if he was impatient, he didn't show it. I was slightly surprised at his proficiency. As if he was a tailor himself, all necessary measurements were taken within moments, and he was back on his way. I stared absently at the wall before grabbing a random book and heading out to the gardens.

The gardens, while full of many poisonous plants and flowers, also had many other different types of flora. The gardens, when added together, were nearly as large as the manor itself. My personal favorite was the predator garden. Even though you had to watch where you placed yourself, it held the most beautiful flowers. Watching the snake lilies move and crawl while they searched for food was always hypnotic to me.

I laid out on the bench, finding a comfortable spot, before I started reading. It was actually one of the few fiction books I had, a mystery, and it was quite entertaining. For once I didn't feel time crawl by. I was so absorbed by the book that the sound of talons trying to find purchase on marble nearly made me fall off the bench. I almost smiled at the aggravated owl, trying to stay on the bench while fending off the advances of the snake lilies.

"Here Horus," I spoke quietly. The owl immediately perked up at its name and flew to my outstretched arm. The barn owl started smoothing out its sand brown feathers before it haughtily extended its leg to me. I gave off the ghost of a laugh before I untied the letter from his leg. He became considerably more relaxed and actually tucked his head under his wing and went to sleep. I gave off another light laugh and braced my arm on my bent knee; even an owl got heavy after a while.

I unfolded the letter, and after reading it, couldn't keep the small smile from my face.

_Dear Draco,_

_Sincerely,_

_Blaize A. Zabini_

Most would assume that there was a secret message, perhaps hidden by magic or written in invisible ink, but I knew Zabini too long. It truly was just a parchment adressed to me, and signed by him. Ironically, his sentiments still got through. I would have to keep this. In these times, one never knew which letter would be the _last _letter one would ever get from a person. Oddly, I wouln't mind this being my last correspondance with Zabini, you know, if he died. It sums up his personality rather well.

I absently noticed that the sun was beginning to set, and that it would almost be supper time soon. I sighed, and refolded the letter, putting it in my pocket. I gently started scratching Horus' chest feathers until his head came back out, shooting me a rather nasty glare. I carefully stood up, Horus not even attempting to help me or himself to keep balance. I scratched his chest again, this time in a peace offering, before I launched him in the air. He circled above me once before he flew off into the forest, probably looking for something to eat. I grabbed the book and straightened my robes before I headed off back to the manor.

As soon as I walked through the door, I felt the Malfoy mask slowly creep back up onto my face. I walked up to my room and deposited my book before I started back down to the dining room. It was a slow walk; I had left early enough to where I didn't need to rush, so I let my mind wander. All summer, this seemed to be the only thing I was doing. I was merely trying to occupy my time until . . . what I wonder? Was I simply staving off boredom, or was I wasting seconds until the four minute count down ran out? Both options were equally depressing. My lack of care for anything, coupled with my sleeping and eating habits, was leading me somewhere that wasn't going to have a happy ending. How sad is it that I didn't care?

I cleared away all those unnecessary thoughts and walked into the dining room. My stalling and becoming introspective wasn't going to make the familial obligation go away. I walked into the room, taking my seat at the table. No matter if it was just the three of us, of if the entire Winsigmont came to dine here, supper was always a serious affair that lacked the relaxed atmosphere of breakfast. This was quite sad as breakfast itself wasn't very relaxing.

Mother was already there, and she gave me a ghost of a smile as I sat down. I truly hate lying to my mother, so I merely inclined my head and started polite conversation. Father walked in a few moments later, and what little pleasant atmosphere my mother and I had made died of frostbite when he sat down. I had the strange inclination to follow its imaginary death to the floor, but I ignored it and instead started eating the first course.

It was a light affair that went completely unnoticed by all of us as we started up the game. It was more of a battle royale between the three of us, though mother rarely aimed anything at me. The objective was to see who could keep their mask on the longest while still obtaining their objective. Father was trying to goad me into becoming a death eater as soon as possible. Mother was trying to get him to stop making me become a death eater. And I, well, my only objective was to avoid my father's landmines while aiding mother when I could, all the while making sure that none of my cracks were visibly showing.

One good way to do this was to slip in my associations with my friends, who were all guaranteed to become death eaters. It subconsciously soothed father and allowed mother a bit of breathing room since the conversation would be shifted toward myself.

"Zabini finally sent a reply to my letter from a few weeks ago. I got it just this afternoon."

"Oh," my mother grabbed onto the un-barbed sentence, "How are they, still in Florence?"

"Yes, though the weather wasn't at its best," quickly making up a lie on the spot, "It seemed like he was rather . . . busier than previous summers, though it didn't sound like he minded." Truthfully, most likely only half of that was a lie. Zabini despised the idea of becoming a death eater even more than I did for the sheer fact that the date was closer for him. Unlike me though, both his parents were die hard death eaters that didn't oppose the idea at all. At the very least I had mother doing what she could to stall.

"Ah, the Zabinis. Pity they didn't have a girl. Did he mention . . . "And like that, the game had begun again. It was an hour and a half later that I was finally able to escape, the night ending in another stalemate between mother and father. I threw off my clothes and headed directly to the shower, turning it so hot that the bathroom was filled with steam in minutes.

After that, I had at least gotten rid of most of the tension that had accumulated during supper. I wandered over to my desk, hair still dripping in only my pajama bottoms and a button up shirt hanging off my shoulders, to look for my book of notes. Sleep did not sound appealing, and it would be fun trying to come up with a new spell. I grabbed the book and my quill and was going to go towards my bed until I heard a slight clicking coming from my window seat.

I turned toward it, and was surprised to see Horus looking rather angry at the see through barrier separating him from my room. I placed my things down and opened the window. He hopped up so that he was gripping the window sill and looked at me expectantly. I gave him a small smile and sat down on the seat, bringing the book onto my lap. I slowly started writing down ideas for a new spell. Horus, for once, didn't demand any attention, and merely stood at the window sill, sometimes staring at the book or at the moving quill, but mostly, his eyes were constantly scanning his surroundings.

I put down my quill and stared at him, though he kept ignoring me. It truly was strange behavior for him. Usually by now he would be demanding treats and scratches, especially since he had to fly so far, but all he kept doing was scanning the room and outside. I didn't understand until there was a slight noise from the gardens. His head instantly swiveled towards it and he drew out his wings, making angry hissing noises.

I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry, because my owl was _guarding_ me. For some reason, the little peacock had gotten it into his brain that I needed to be protected tonight. I don't know why it affected me so much, but it did. This creature, who truly had no need of me, cared for me enough to guard me of his own free will. I got my feelings under control and slowly started to scratch his head and make shushing noises. He calmed down again, and leaned into the touch, but after a couple moments he started looking around again, completely ignoring my presence. In that moment, I knew that Horus would give his life if only to protect mine. The epiphany caused strange emotions to swell in my chest, and while they weren't normal, they were not unpleasant in the least. (2)

I spent the rest of the night like this, sometimes writing down new ideas, sometimes looking at the sky, and sometimes fawning over my little diety. Only when the sun rose did he demand one last scratch before he flew off towards the woods. I felt that my face was a little cold, and found that my cheeks were slightly wet. I quickly wiped the tear tracks and got into bed. If the nights were going to be like that, this last week and a half wasn't going to be as bad as I thought.

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(1) No sewer minds please. He's on his way to breakfast with the family.

(2) When I named Draco's owl, I just knew that Horus was an Egyptian God. It was only when I wrote the last couple of paragraphs that I read that Horus was known as the God of war, protection, and the sky. Horus is definetly going to get more face time now.

Notes: I'm a little rusty, so critique is always welcome. There are some parts that I'm not really satisfied with, but can't think of a better way to do them. I hope you liked this chapter. Next chapter some more familiar characters are going to be introduced, and the school year is finally going to start. It shouldn't be too long before chapter 3 is up, but chapter 4 will probably be a while. I have to really figure out where the story is going, and it's hard to find time to write between all of my college work. Just a heads up.


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